another victim of your conformity
by PanicWithAsh
Summary: As Dean silently closes the door to the hotel behind him, he notices that the light to the bathroom is shining into the main room. Following that light is just the faintest sound of sobbing. Ambrollins. Filled for a prompt on tumblr. Emotional Hurt/Comfort


_Disclaimer: The author is in no way, shape, or form in any form of association with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy._

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><p>Time had been flying by in Dean's life as of late with just how busy he had been and just how full his head has been. From his precious princess, Seth Rollins, and the Authority to <em>Bray fucking Wyatt<em>, Dean just didn't think he was ever going to catch a break. Weeks passed like seconds in his mind, save for the moments when he's out in front of the crowds and listening to their chant; save for the moments when he's salivating at the mouth and waiting for his chance to get his _hands on Bray Wyatt_. Time had been going by so fast except for those moments that he hadn't even seen his precious Seth in a while. Which, of course, is why he's headed towards the room where he's gotten tips of where Seth was staying tonight.

He didn't know why he still tried to put them through all of the pain that they caused each other. They had been going two weeks stone-cold sober from whatever they had been doing before; from their constant hate and intimacy cycle that had been going on for years. Dean would say that he's finally glad that he's found himself away from the toxic nature of it, but he would be lying if he did. He missed it. He missed everything about Seth. His brown eyes had always been Dean's weak spot. Not to mention his long, two-toned hair that was just perfect to wrap your fist into.

When Dean reaches the door that is suspected to be the one that leads into Seth's bedchambers for the evening, he doesn't bother trying to knock. He doesn't want to have to explain to someone why he was knocking at their door if it wasn't Seth, and it was late enough that any sane person would be asleep, which would allow Dean to sneak back out if it wasn't his former teammate. Plus, to Dean, it was easier to explain breaking in than knocking. Knocking just made everything more awkward.

As Dean silently closes the door to the hotel behind him, he notices that the light to the bathroom is shining into the main room. Following that light is just the faintest sound of sobbing. It puts Dean on high alert, because the sobbing was so _familiar_, and he immediately felt the need to protect. He's moving closer slowly, though, fearing that if he made too much noise, he would be shut out.

He's barely got his head around the corner to look into the bathroom when he notices the problem. Seth is standing in front of the mirror, a growing pile of his hair on the floor as he stares at himself, scissors in his head. His brown eyes are wet with the tears that were streaming down his face. He looked so pained and so tormented, more so than Dean had ever seen him look before. He looked like he was fighting his own demons and he was the one who was supposed to be the sane one, wasn't he?

He's about to take another chunk of his hair off – it was already up above his shoulders, closer to the bottom of his ears. It looked like he was going slow, giving himself time to talk himself out of it – when Dean was stepping into the bathroom. His hand grabs Seth's wrist and their eyes meet in the mirror, no words being exchanged, but Seth's face contorted in agony as another sob bubbles up out of him. Seth rolls was breaking down right in front of Dean's eyes. Seth Rollins, one of the strongest men Dean knew, was allowing himself to be defeated. Dean wanted nothing more than to know why.

The scissors are dropped from his hand when Dean squeezes his wrist tighter, hitting the floor with a 'clang' that neither of them paid attention to. Dean releases Seth's wrist, but is grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to turn and face him. Still, no words were exchanged. It was before Dean could even get a word out that Seth was shooting himself at him and wrapping his arms around him tight, another sob escaping the shorter.

Dean didn't allow for surprise to come over him as he wraps his arms just as tight around his former brother, his cheek resting against the side of Seth's head as the man shakes. There was something wrong here. Terribly wrong. Something about it just spits 'Authority' at him, but he wasn't going to push for answers that Seth wouldn't want to give. At least, that's what he was telling himself. His mouth seemed to have an entirely different plan.

"What are you doing, baby?" Dean is murmuring to him. "What the hell are you thinking? You've had your hair long for _years_. You and Roman used to share god damn hair tips," Dean is murmuring in his ear, his fingers carding through what's left of the man's hair. It was uneven in some places, jagged. If Seth was in his right mind, Dean knew that would be driving the younger insane. But he wasn't, which made Dean even more concerned about the whole situation.

Seth is shaking his head for a moment, pressing his entire face into Dean's neck now. He's taking deep, shaky breaths, his entire body shaking in Dean's arms. Then, he's speaking. "It's… It's supposed to be a sign of devotion," Seth rasps out, pulling his face back just enough to press their cheeks together, beard scraping against stubble in a way that makes Dean itch, but he doesn't tell him to move. This was important. He had to endure discomfort for this. "They said they needed to know they had my complete loyalty. That I was willing to _look the part_," Seth is spitting out bitterly, though his sniffles kind of defeat the quality of his words. "They're helping me so much. They're getting me so _fucking far_, Dean. I have to do this. I have to…"

Dean is shaking his head, pushing Seth back as the man trails off of his words. Dean cups his hands around Seth's face, making the other look at him, his fingers wrapping into the other's beard some to give it a light tug. "You don't have to do jack shit for these guys," is what Dean says, shaking his head as he speaks. "You didn't have to do jack shit in the first place. You didn't have to _fucking turn on us_ to join them. You didn't have to _fucking join them_. And even though you did, you've still got me and Ro. Always. And I'm telling you now, that you can hop off their dicks right now and come back and you don't have to do any of this." He doesn't know where all of this is coming from, he really doesn't. All he knows is he wants his brother to stop having to suffer because he think it's the only way.

Seth doesn't do anything but stare at him, eyebrows knitting together and fingers moving to wrap around Dean's wrists now. "I have to… I have to keep doing this, Dean," he's whispering, "I have to keep doing this. There's a plan to all of this, I have to stick to it. And… And if I have to do _this_," he shakes his head some, indicating his hair. "Then I have to do it. I have to show I'm loyal; even if I'm not." The look in his eyes is _intense_, like he's pleading for Dean to understand, and Dean thinks he might. He thinks he might understand, and it seems to show, because Seth is leaning forward, pressing their foreheads together. It takes everything in Dean's power not to kiss him. "Help me?" Seth is asking softly now, brown eyes searching blue. Dean finds he can't say no.

This is how he ends up cutting Seth's hair until it's just slightly above the bottom of his hair, finding that he couldn't go much further with the look on Seth's face and the feeling in his own heart. It looks good, though. Dean makes sure of that much. Dean had spent the majority of his teen years cutting his own hair anyway and was pretty good at what he did.

Seth doesn't thank Dean because this is nothing to be thankful for. Dean doesn't want to be thanked. They end up showering together to make sure all of the excess hair is off of Seth. Dean washes his hair, glad that it's still long enough for him to grasp in his hands. After the shower, they end up in their underwear in Seth's bed, fingers tracing over muscles but going no further as they lay facing in each in the dark room.

There was no light save a sliver of city lights from where Seth had closed the blinds to the balcony. Seth's fingers were tracing over Dean's bicep while Dean's fingers were tracing over Seth's shoulders, down his chest. They were completely silent for what felt like hours and quite possibly could have been before Seth is leaning their foreheads together again. When their lips touch, it's the first time in weeks and Dean is surprised at just how gentle it is.

"I never wanted to do this," Seth is whispering to him and Dean can't find it in him to believe him, after everything that's happened. "I never wanted to have to do this."

"Just shut up and go to sleep, Princess," Dean whispers back, closing his eyes against the ache in his heart.

Seth hesitates before he's leaning closer, curling up against Dean without another word. Within minutes, he's asleep. Dean soon followers, his hand wrapped in Seth's now-short hair, feeling vaguely like he's just helped destroyed the part of Seth that was still his.

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><p><em><strong>Hope you guys enjoyed~ Reviews would be appreciated, but never necessary!<strong>_

_**~Ash**_


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